


10 to 0 (it's always been you)

by sweetiejelly



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-18
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-14 20:11:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5756653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweetiejelly/pseuds/sweetiejelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Arthur. Kissed. Him. His best friend. On the eve of Arthur's wedding day. To someone else. Fucking A.</i>
</p><p>Or, Merlin and Arthur are best friends who have been pining for each other since forever. It finally comes to a head on the eve of Arthur's wedding day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	10 to 0 (it's always been you)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt of writing a story with a countdown, starting at 10 and ending at 0. Also written for [merlin_writers](http://merlin-writers.livejournal.com/)' January theme of [friends to lovers](http://merlin-writers.livejournal.com/211643.html), though not for a specific prompt there.

10 PM and Merlin is wide awake. His mind is reeling. His hands are shaking. Arthur kissed him. It's no big deal. It's no big deal. It's no –

It's not working. Saying it over and over doesn't make it true, doesn't make his heart less frantic in his chest, doesn't set him less on edge.

Arthur. Kissed. Him. His best friend. On the eve of Arthur's wedding day. To someone else. Fucking A.

Merlin drinks a glass of milk. He splashes his face with cold water. He consults his cat Kilgharrah. Nothing. Nothing helps.

He looks up Arthur in his contacts, filed under 'His Royal Pratness', and smiles despite himself. Arthur is wearing a tiara in the photo and Merlin remembers that night well. It was the night of their first dance.

9 fifteen-year-olds plus an empty house equals a recipe for disaster. Uther had gone out of the country on urgent business. Morgana was away visiting her half-sister Morgause. Summer heat was sticking under everyone's shirts, and Gwaine dared Arthur to host a party.

Recipe. For. Disaster.

Merlin was thrilled. He always liked the Pendragon mansion, but he liked it best when Arthur was the only Pendragon in it. The music blasted loud and cheesy, echoing through the rooms, bouncing off the high ceilings. Gwen was dancing, swaying close and closer to the new kid Lance, her giggles vibrating all the way to the cup of soda in Merlin's hands.

Arthur was pouting, sticking to his side with heavy sighs. “No one wants to make out with _me_.”

Merlin swallowed back his words. _I do._

“I do!” Gwaine proclaimed. “C'mon, Princess. Give us a kiss.”

Arthur had rolled his eyes, looking ever unimpressed. “I need a little more romancing than _that_.”

Gwaine left then, only to come back with a tiara and a request to dance.

Arthur snorted but let himself be led to the middle of the room. Merlin looked at the two of them moving like fools to Backstreet Boys and the Spice Girls. Arthur twirled Gwaine around and Gwaine dipped Arthur low.

Jealousy, Merlin realised then, jealousy is both lousy and loud.

Only, Arthur never kissed Gwaine but instead came back to Merlin and asked if he would like to dance.

“Me?”

Arthur had smiled at him, fond, “yes, _Mer_ lin, you.”

So they danced, Arthur's tiara slanted sideways on his head and Arthur's smile wide and beautiful on his face. Merlin never wanted the song to end. Even if it _was_ “I Will Survive.”

8 minutes of deep breathing later and Merlin is still not sure if he will survive the night. Best men did not kiss their grooms the night before the wedding. Or, well, ever.

What kind of friend was he? What kind of best man?

He's the worst man. The worst.

Only his heart doesn't agree. Arthur is making a mistake with Mordred, he just knows it. Not that there is anything overtly objectionable about Mordred. Mordred is fine. He's quiet, sure, but he's devoted to Arthur, looks to him like sunflowers to the sun. But maybe that's the problem. Arthur _isn't_ the sun. He is a man, a man Merlin knows and loves, warts and all.

Merlin needs a stronger drink. Only, all the alcohol's gone, used up the night before at the stag party.

7 men and a baby. No joke. That was their stag party. Lance had graciously volunteered to take the baby so that his wife Gwen and the girls could have the other party at the spa with Mordred in peace.

Merlin, as the best man, had hosted Arthur's party at his place. Thus, the lack of alcohol in his fridge right now. Unfortunate. Very.

Kilgharrah makes another turn around him.

6 now. Not that Merlin is counting. His cat is really soft. His purrs are really comforting. It's just – Merlin doesn't think anything can calm him down right now, cool this transgression.

He needs Gwen maybe. Or Elyan. Or even Morgana. He needs a friendly ear who isn't Arthur.

5 rings and Lance picks up.

“Merlin?” Lance sounds concerned. The baby cries in the background and Gwen starts up a lullaby. Merlin should have never called.

“Sorry. You're busy. I'll-”

“Merlin, what's wrong?”

Merlin takes a deep breath and tells his tale, not breathing in between words because what's breathing on a night like this?

“Oh.” Lance is quiet for a spell. “Is Arthur calling off the wedding?”

Merlin chokes. “What? No! I don't- I don't know.”

“You haven't talked to him.” It isn't a question because Lance knows the both of them too well.

“I-I can't. I just- it probably means nothing to him, yeah? It's probably nothing. Just a momentary lack of judgement on his part. Arthur has a plan. You know he's a planner. I'm not a _part_ of that plan. I never was.”

4 knocks on the door. Arthur's knock. Knock-knock-knock, _knock_. It's been their signal ever since that traumatic time Arthur walked in on him wanking (to the thought of Arthur, not that Arthur knows that part of the story).

“Is that Arthur?” Lance really knows them too well. “Go talk to him, Merlin. It'll be okay.”

“Okay.” Merlin is barely breathing, but sure. It'll be okay.

His hands are still shaking when he opens the door.

Arthur is a ball of fire staring at him like he's trying to inhale every detail of Merlin with a look.

Merlin steps to the side, lets Arthur in.

3 steps and Arthur has him crowded against the wall. “Merlin.” There's an edge to Arthur's voice and Merlin closes his eyes and lets the warm breath on his neck burn him up even more.

He does. He deserves to burn for this.

“Arthur, wait.” Merlin grips Arthur's coat. A tug.

No, a push. “What are we doing?”

Arthur looks up at him, steady, not a drop of uncertainty in his eyes. “I told Mordred.”

Merlin's eyes widen. “You told Mordred what?”

“About the kiss. And that I can't marry him because I'm in love with you.”

_With you. With you. With you._

The 2 words echo in Merlin's veins, sinking in at last.

“Are you sure?” Merlin's lips start trembling, which, what is this? Why is his body betraying him so? No matter. He has to ask. “Because Arthur, I've been in love with you since I knew what it was to be in love.”

Arthur kisses him again, slow, sure, on the edge of his jaw, just under his lower lip, at the edge of his lips, then -

1 word - “ _Yes_.”

One word's not _nearly_ enough after all this time. “Yes, what?” A grip. A push.

“Yes, Merlin, I've never been more sure about anything. I thought – you were with Gwaine and then that other bloke.” Accusation coats Arthur's voice. Jealousy, Merlin discovers, jealousy can be lovely when it's on his love's tongue. “I never thought I had a chance. I love you, Merlin. You're my best friend, my idiot best friend who never _told_ me how he felt until it was almost too late.”

Merlin stills. “But I didn't-” _Did he?_

“You said you loved me. Earlier. I heard you.”

Oh. That. When Hunith had called him to make sure he was doing all right. His mother knew his heart, always had.

“Oh, that.” Merlin smiles a little (a lot), happy, so happy. “I do. It's true. It's always been you.”

“Idiot.” Arthur claims his mouth, soft and warm and then warms to harder and wet. It's all perfect.

0 faults.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Perhaps Words](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6595000) by [viennajones](https://archiveofourown.org/users/viennajones/pseuds/viennajones)




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